


Swan Song

by stumblinginthestars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Angst, Blood, M/M, Might be a one-shot, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), archangel shiro, but I might extend it, fallen angel keith, idk man i just... love this au sm, spn au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-10 19:00:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15955520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stumblinginthestars/pseuds/stumblinginthestars
Summary: “You haven’t gotten… sentimental on me, have you?” Lucifer croons, the dust crunching under his dress shoes as he steps closer.“Look. I can get you something else.” He snaps, annoyance flaring in his mind at being called out. “Something better.”“Better than ten thousand souls and the grace of an archangel?” Lucifer asks, clicking his tongue.-Keith has worked his way up since his fall. Gone from a basic crossroads demon to where he is now: Lucifer's right-hand man in this big plan to take down the earth... But, the feelings he thought he'd lost have been resurfacing and maybe his loyalties don't lie where he thought.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was hella inspired by lightning_strikes Supernatural AU & had to write something for it!  
> Takes place at the end of S5 of Supernatural//the end of the "devil is trying to rise & fight archangel Michael to take over the world" arch... It's a little off from the actual SPN timeline, but sorta adds up if you squint.  
> In this AU, Keith was an angel alongside Shiro a long time ago when ~something~ causes him to sacrifice himself and get sent to Hell.

 

                “Where are my souls, Keith?”

The ruler of Hell is a nasty-looking creature, made up of rotting teeth and burning skin; tonight, though, he’s wearing what looks like a Republican senator, a tiny American flag pinned on the blood-stained lapel of his suit glinting in the dim light from the crescent moon overhead. Keith isn’t keen on breaking deals; after working his way up from a basic crossroads demon, he’d become one of the more powerful entities with enough free reign to run around Earth every now and then. A spot he worked hard to gain the past few years—or was it millennia? Weeks? He can’t remember; time is different when you’re suffering eternally. But he needs that freedom. He needs to check on things that he’d left behind. Oddly enough, he hadn’t lost all of his sentimentality like others in Hell. He hasn’t been twisted and corrupted entirely, though at times, he wishes he had.

He flicks his cigarette butt to the ground, watching it fall like a tiny meteorite, the only light in the middle of the field of wind turbines he finds himself in. He’s taking too long to answer, he knows this, stomping it out with the sole of his boot. He sees the ring leader of Hell—Lucifer—shift impatiently beside him. This had been a big deal and Keith had thought he could do it, but…

“I don’t have them.” He says, matter-of-factly. He’s no liar, either. He’s not a lot of things one would expect from a demon.

“What” the devil’s voice is oddly void of emotion, smooth as honey as it winds through the air, “do you mean by that?”

Keith doesn’t answer, just stares out at the vast, flat landscape of West Texas. A cool breeze hits his face, ruffling his long hair at the nape of his neck.

“You haven’t gotten… sentimental on me, have you?” Lucifer croons, the dust crunching under his dress shoes as he steps closer.

Keith frowns deeply, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, fingers touching the cool metal he has tucked away. “Look. I can get you the souls and something else.” He snaps, annoyance flaring in his mind at being called out. “Something better.”

“Better than ten thousand souls and the grace of an archangel?” Lucifer asks, clicking his tongue.

Keith bristles. “You’re not taking him.”

“And there it is.” A snap of his fingers has Keith floored. No matter how high in the ranks he got, Keith would never be able to truly take on the head honcho himself. “Where is this coming from? I thought you were over him? He’s clearly over you.”

“Shut. Up.” Keith rasps out, shakily clambering onto his hands and knees. Blood drips from his lips and he swipes at it with the sleeve of his jacket.

“How cute.” He kneels down, his angular face twisting into a look of disgust. “You really think that Shiro—an archangel—is going to come crawling back to a demon like you? _Ha_!” The laugh is spit in his face. “Even if Naomi and her birdbrained minions hadn’t wiped Shiro’s mind, he still wouldn’t come back for you. You're just the mistake-- the _thing_ that almost cost him his wings.”

Keith wheezes out a painful breath—Lucifer has probably jeopardized the lungs in the vessel he wears. His only option is to flee. He closes his eyes, ready to smoke out of this body he’s grown oddly attached to… but nothing happens. He’s been trapped inside. His breathing falters and he scrabbles for a plan; some way to get away and to warn Shiro. Tell him that he needed to hide, to run, to tell him that he was sorry…

"Sorry, Keith, no escaping toda--"

He reaches in his pockets again, pulling out a knife. The sigils carved into the metal blade barely have time to gleam in the moonlight before he’s shoving it deep into the other man’s chest. No blood comes out. He doesn't fall or even flinch. Nothing happens. An unamused look passes over Lucifer’s face as he slowly pulls the blade from his chest.

“Keith, this is why we can’t have nice things,” he says coolly, fingers running over the new hole in his suit. His eyes look over the blade, look at the enochian warding symbol, and he scoffs. “You’re still clinging to your roots?”

Keith’s eyes widen as they meet the cold, red gaze of his boss.

And Keith is suddenly tumbling across the landscape, thrown as if he is nothing more than a ragdoll. The dust settles around him and he feels the sting of something broken in the vessel’s body. Wishes he wasn’t trapped in it… He stumbles to his feet again, faltering when he sees Lucifer slowly walking towards him again.

“After they cast you out of Heaven? After you sacrificed everything for him? How can a demon like you still cling to something as silly as love? After all this time?”

He flicks his wrist and Keith is thrown backwards again, flying backwards ten feet before he clangs against a wind turbine. He crumples to his knees at the base, blood trickling from his lips. He pushes himself to his feet again, leaning heavily against the turbine.

 A hand is wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. He claws at the arm, kicking his legs the try and break free. The wind is picking up, dirt and dead plants swirling around them like a tornado as the area seems to get darker.

“I thought we’d trained you right. Looks like you’ll need another hundred thousand years under Alistair’s hand to teach you who you really belong to.” A sick grin is smeared across the stolen face. The too-white teeth glean like fangs in the moonlight.

“Put him down.” The order is so forceful, so powerful, that the wind stops.

“No!” Keith chokes out, eyes landing on Shiro. “Don’t--! It’s…a trap!”

Shiro’s eyes are on Keith for all of a second—soft, worried—before they’re trained back on Lucifer again, full of malice. “Put him down, Beelzebub.”

“Oh, haven’t heard that name in a while.” Lucifer drones, chuckling a little. “Shiro, how nice to see you again. How long has it been? Ten? Twenty millennia?”

Keith chokes as the hand around his throat tightens. He supposes Lucifer is doing all this, too, seeing as he hasn’t ever needed to breathe until now.

“I said put him down.” There’s the unmistakable sound of winds snapping out. They are invisible to Keith’s eyes, but judging by the sound of them and the look on Lucifer’s face, he’d guess they are impressive.

“Why? Do _you_ want to torture him?” Lucifer asks, brows raising innocently. “After all, I did send him to lure you in so I could steal your grace.” He tosses Keith down at Shiro’s feet.

“I’m sorry—I—I didn’t know… he was gonna…” Keith rasps out, choking and heaving as he can breathe again.

Lucifer laughs harshly, the air growing cold. “Don’t lie, Keith.” He looks at Shiro and shrugs. “Demons, right? They’ll try and weasel their way outta almost anything.”

Shiro pauses as he looks down at Keith, grey eyes full of his usual amount of other-worldliness and… something else.

“I understand you not wanting to smite him since thou art too righteous to dabble in the art of death and torment… Or if you caught feelings for our little actor here. Keith can be a very convincing little whore.” Lucifer says, eyes meeting the archangel’s with a knowing look.

Keith hears Shiro’s wings snap again, upsetting the dust on the ground around them. “Quiet, Lucifer.” He orders, blush high on his cheeks, betraying his otherwise fear-inducing image. He looks down at Keith as he speaks again, “You are correct in your assumptions that I have… feelings for Keith. But you are wrong about one thing.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Lucifer says, face contorting into a smirk that stretches at his skin. Burning from the inside out.

Keith heaves another labored breath, staring up at the angel. “Shiro… Don't be stupid. Get outta here.”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan,” he says, winking awkwardly.

Keith shakes his head, pushes himself to a seat. “What… are you even doing?” he asks quietly, concern marring his face.

Shiro’s lips quirk up in a small, comforting smile. “What I probably should have done a long time ago.” He whispers, a regretful look crossing his face before he moves to stand in front of Keith’s weakened form.

“Yoo-hoo, Shirogane?” Lucifer interrupts, making his way over from his spot three yards away. “What am I so wrong about?”

Shiro’s expression goes back to usual. Hard, righteous anger. His eyes glow with an ethereal light. “Keith would never lie.”

“Well, I may not have ten thousand souls,” Lucifer’s voice is coldly polite as he closes the distance between them, “But taking your grace should be enough to at least get me closer to finding out where my true vessel is so I can finally kill that damned brother of mine.”

Shiro’s arm lights up, crackling like lightning as he thrusts it forwards. Lucifer is struck in the chest, careening back. He lands on his feet with catlike fluidity before laughing. He smooths the static out of his slicked-back hair as Shiro remains in a defensive stance, hand sparking like an exposed wire.

“Do we really need to fight like this?” Lucifer asks.

Shiro remains quiet, confusion scrunching up his brow.

“Come on, Shirogane! This—” he gestures at Shiro’s arm and himself, “—is old news. Been there, done that, got trapped in the cage for a jillion years.”

“And that’s where I’m going to send you back to.” Shiro says, his tone taking on an anxious tone. His grey eyes darting around the field before falling back on his target.

Lucifer sighs, rolling his eyes. “This whole song-and-dance is played out, Shiro. Let’s just you and me make a deal, hmm?”

“A deal?” Shiro scoffs.

“Yes, sir,” he nods, hands steepling before him. “I’ll make you a great deal for that grace of yours. I won’t even kill you off when I take it!”

“There is nothing you have that I want.” Shiro hisses, voice dripping with animosity and annoyance.

“Oh, but isn’t there?” He says, snapping his fingers.

Keith screams, the cries echoing around them in the dark emptiness. Shiro whips around to see him writhing on the ground in agony.

“Keith!” Shiro falls to his knees, running his hands over Keith’s body, trying to use his grace to heal him. To ease his pain. Nothing happens. Keith continues wailing like a wounded animal.

“Oh, that won’t work, I’m afraid.” The devil laughs from over his shoulder. “You see, Keith signed a contract. He belongs to me. His soul is _mine_.”

Shiro feels his chest clench in fear. He wonders where the others were—they said they would be here to help!

“So,” Lucifer stretches out a hand, “Do we have a deal?”


	2. Chapter 2

 

                “Stop! Don’t! Shir— _Aaaah_!” Keith’s body arches unnaturally as another scream rips its way from his throat.

Shiro knows it’s wrong. It’s the actual devil in front of him, offering him a deal; of course it’s wrong. But this is Keith. He squeezes his eyes closed as dream-like images rip through his mind. Maybe memories? They’re of Keith. Something shimmering like wings on his body. He knew that his connection to the demon is something deeper than a double-crossed deal. His arm, blinding like lightning, reaches out towards Lucifer’s. Maybe if he makes this deal, he’ll know more. Maybe he’ll have time to figure out the fragmented shards of memories scattered through his head…?

“Come on, angel. Your grace is a small price to pay to end his pain.” The devil’s voice is honey-sweet, prompting Shiro’s hand to reach closer.

-Two Days Earlier-

Shiro apparates in the motel room, the shades of teal and blue on the peeling wallpaper making him squint in distaste. He looks over the room; two small twin beds are loaded down with an assortment of weapons and talisman. Sawed-off shotgun, salt, flasks filled with Holy water, brass knuckles, and the Colt—the gun that could supposedly kill the unkillable.

“Shiro! What’s up, man?” Matt’s voice comes from the small bathroom area where he is rinsing blood off a knife’s blade.

“Nothing is _up_. We need to discuss the rising of Lucifer.” Shiro says, matter-of-fact. “Where is Pidge?”

“She ran out to the vending machines for snacks and soda. All we got here is alcohol,” Matt says, gesturing to a mini-fridge that is puttering in the corner.

Pidge returns, arms full of Hostess products and a couple cokes. She acknowledges Shiro with a wave before dumping her haul on the small table that also held the twenty-inch television. She’s chomping on a Twinkie when she asks Shiro, “What’s up?”

Shiro rolls his eyes towards heaven. “I don’t know what is ‘up’, but we need to formulate a plan for dealing with Lucifer as he is currently free and looking for a vessel.”

“Why’s it taking him so long to find one?” Pidge asks, wiping her mouth off on the back of her hand.

“Because, since you are his True Vessel, all others are not strong enough to hold his form. All that power—it will burn any other vessels up like fire burning paper.”

“Great. Have I mentioned how much I _love_ the fact that _we’re_ somehow the chosen, true vessels?” Pidge asks with a groan.

“Was that… sarcasm?” Shiro asks, squinting hard at her.

“Obviously.”

An hour later, Keith shows up in the hotel room in a puff of smoke that sets off the alarm. They all look up as he rips the alarm from the wall and smashes it, annoyance on his face.

“You could’ve just taken the batteries out.” Pidge grumbles, one hand reaching for her flask of Holy water.

Keith ignores her, crossing his arms, but his casual look is forced. There’s a pinch to his mouth that Shiro immediately catches, asking, “What’s wrong, Keith?”

Keith’s eyebrows shoot up before he schools his face back to its usual smirk. “Aw, are you worried, angel-cakes?”

“Yes.”

That flusters Keith and he stammers, “Oh. Uh, well… Something’s come up.”

“What is it?” Matt asks, looking up from his book of angel lore.

“Lucifer has found a temporary vessel strong enough to tide him over. He’s meeting me tomorrow night.” Keith stands tall, but the tremor in his hands as he reaches for his lighter and cigarette betrays the façade he’s putting on. “He wants the souls.” Doesn’t tell them about the other half of the deal. He isn’t going to fulfill it, so it isn’t necessary information.

“Shit.” Matt breathes out. “That’s not enough time to get the rest of what we need.”

“You think?” Keith snips, cramming his lit cigarette between his lips.

“No need to be a dick.” Pidge shoots back before puffing out a breath. “Sorry. But… this just means we gotta think of something else. Our plan won’t work now with just Holy oil… We need another plan. A—”

“I’m going to meet with him.” Keith says, taking a long drag.

“Keith…” Shiro’s voice breaks.

He looks away from them to exhale the smoke. “Look, if I stick with you yahoos, he’ll just find you even faster. So, yeah. I’ll go. Buy you guys some time or whatever. But you gotta promise me that you’ll kill him.” He’s looking at the siblings. “You have to promise me you’ll save Shiro.”

“Keith, no. We aren’t letting you do this.” Shiro stands up suddenly, the overhead light flickering.

The cigarette vanishes and Keith’s face crumples into something pained and vulnerable. Pidge sucks in a breath, feeling as though she’s intruding on something private. Matt is surprisingly still beside her and she knows he’s thinking about his girlfriend who he’d left behind three years ago to go help Pidge find their father. Matt knows how Keith feels.

Shiro’s hand is cupping Keith’s face. “We’ll find another way, Keith. It doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to do this.”

A tormented look crosses Keith’s face and a choked out laugh exits his lips. “This is how it will always be, Shiro. You don’t reme—” He sucks in a breath, stopping himself. “I will save you as many times as it takes.” He turns his face to press a kiss to the center of Shiro’s palm. Turns back to the Holts, eyes hardened with determination. “Please. Promise me.”

“We promise.” Matt’s voice is strong, filled with conviction.

And, just like that, Keith is gone.

-Present-

Blood is dripping from Keith’s mouth and nose. He’s screaming and sobbing, the sounds rolling across the vast, flat landscape like a fog.

“Lucy! I’m home!”

Pidge’s voice is loud as she emerges from the darkness, interrupting the deal about to go down. Shiro pulls his hand back, shame flooding him at what he’d been about to do; about how he’d doubted if they’d show. Pidge’s oversized flannel flutters in the breeze.

“Oh, how nice. You brought me my vessel, too?” Lucifer directs the question at Keith, turning to the girl with a wicked smile. “Are you finally going to invite me in?”

Pidge smirks. “No.”

Matt comes from the opposite side, chanting the Latin exorcism he had memorized as he sets aside his large bag. Lucifer’s attention snaps to him, eyes flashing blood red. Matt is tossed across the ground, words stopping as he tumbles across the barren landscape.

“You thought you could _exorcize_ me?!” Lucifer asks, voice filled with annoyance as he stares at Matt.

“No, not really.” He huffs, pushing himself to a seat with a pained hiss. “Just thought it’d distract you for a bit.”

“Distract—”

The sound of a gun going off rings loud through the field, echoing off the wind turbines. Lucifer wobbles on his feet, gunshot to the back of the head sending him stumbling forwards. Pidge lowers the Colt, chest heaving as she says, “Go back to Hell.”

But he doesn’t. Just turns and laughs, blood dribbling from his lips as he stalks towards her. “That may work on other big bads, but not on me. You will never defeat me with something like that. Nothing made by man can ever kill me.”

“But I can.” Shiro’s arm is sparking, bright and angry as it crackles to life. Lighting up the plain strangely, like Chiaroscuro.

“You wouldn’t. Not when your precious Keith is on the line.” Lucifer smirks, raising his hand and making a fist.

Keith’s screams are cut off and he’s suddenly clawing at his throat. Choked noises coming from his throat as his heels dig into the dirt. Lucifer turns back to Shiro, releasing his fist only to see an untapped rage coming from the other.

Shiro charges forward, crossing the short distance like a tsunami crashing onto shore. Pidge and Matt race to Keith’s prone form, taking care to drag him behind the base of the wind turbine. He’s gone limp, whimpers coming from his lips every so often, body twitching.

Shiro and Lucifer fight, surging together like opposing charges. Sparks fly from each impact, blowing up dust and rock. Shiro races after him when Lucifer tries to swoop away, arm sending lighting towards him. Accurate and deadly. Lucifer dodges it last-minute and it hits another wind turbine, slicing through it cleanly. The sound of metal scraping and creaking fills the world around them as they twist and swoop and spar. The turbine falls slowly at first, then it topples over all at once. Metal flies everywhere. The generator blowing up from the inside, sending flames and smoke into the purple sky. The blades trying to stop the fall, cracking upon impact with the earth as though they are made from paper-mâché. Shiro flips back from a splintered piece of the machine, eyes fixed on the devil.

He’s snaking through the wreckage as well, eyes filled with bloodlust and anger. But he’s slow. The bullet lodged in his skull has enough anti-demon warding to knock Lucifer down a peg. Shiro flips back, when the other is suddenly atop him. They’re grappling. Hand-to-hand. Too close for Shiro’s long-range attacks. He grits his teeth against it.

“You know what? I won’t kill you when I rip your grace out. I’ll just drag you to Hell with your little boy toy. I’ll force you to watch Alistair torture him forever.” Lucifer sneers, teeth clashing with each word. “I’ll show him that, no matter how loyal he is, you will never save him. I’ll make him mine and I’ll make you watch when he finally bows down to me.”

Shiro roars, arm lighting too bright.

“Pidge! Matt! Close your eyes!” he orders seconds before the world is encompassed in white light.

Satan screams, the sound of ten thousand nails on a chalkboard. Shiro’s arm lights up, lightning and grace whipping out with unrestrained power. It gets brighter and brighter, chanting lines of Enochian as he grabs ahold of Lucifer’s soul with his grace arm, leaning down to rip a hole into the ground—into the Cage. It’s dark, the only thing contrasting the brightness surging from Shiro’s form, the hole swirling and sucking in anything it can. Tugging at Shiro’s tattered coat. Lucifer screams in his grip, the noise so loud it bursts the vessel’s ears. Chanting the last lines of the Enochian incantation, Shiro uses the last of his strength to shove the devil’s soul into the hole and close it behind him. It snaps closed, ripping through the grace-made arm. Shiro screams as the world rocks with the burst of power. And in those few seconds, it’s over.

“Shiro!” Matt’s voice is the first he hears when he stumbles up from his knees.

“Matt… Are you alright?” he furrows his brow, looking up from the jagged scar in the earth where he’d opened the Cage again to see Matt racing towards him

“Yeah, man, it’s Keith! He’s… He’s not doing so hot.” Matt struggles, breaths heaving from the run over.

Shiro runs over to where Pidge is with Keith. He drops to his knees alongside Keith’s body, chest squeezing when he hears how wet and labored his breaths are. Keith looks over at Shiro, blood-stained mouth struggling to lilt into a pained smile.

“You did it,” he wheezes.

“We did it, Keith. We…” Shiro stops, gripping Keith’s hand in his remaining one. “I’ll fix you.”

“Don’t waste your grace on me,” Keith coughs up more blood, his eyes flashing as his soul struggles to stay in its vessel.

Shiro can feel the darkness seeping throughout Keith’s soul from his hand on Keith. The ugly curse laid upon him from Lucifer. He closes his eyes, reaches his grace deep into Keith’s form. There’s one thing he can try. “Stay still, Keith,” he says, opening his eyes to meet Keith’s. The other’s are half-closed, resigned to his fate. “Don’t give up, Keith. Please. I—I remember! I’m starting to remember what they took from me! You were—you were—”

“A big, feathered dork like you? Yeah, I know,” Keith whimpers, body curling in on itself from the pain.

“You saved me,” Shiro says.

“I love you, Takashi,” Keith murmurs as his eyes slip closed.

There’s a snap as Shiro’s wings expand suddenly. “Matt! Do you have the Holy oil?” Shiro asks, eyes blazing.

“Yeah, yeah… it’s--it’s in here.” He rummages through his pack, pulling out a gallon jug.

Shiro takes it and stands, making a large, intricately decorated circle around Keith and steps inside. “Light it.” He orders Matt and, as soon as the flames encircle them, he grabs Keith’s hand again. Whispers something soft and slowly into the other’s hair. The wind whips around them and the flames jump from the ground to above and behind Shiro.

“Your wings! It’s--! Your wings, Shiro!” Pidge screams, eyes wide as the flames eat away at the giant wings.

Matt holds Pidge back as Shiro screams against gritted teeth. The fire burns from the tips to the base. Disintegrating them completely and leaving two, large, bleeding gashes down his shoulder blades. The flames in the Holy oil goes out with a whoosh and Keith is sputtering awake, snapping into a seated position, ramming into Shiro’s slumped form.

“Shiro!?” Keith grabs at the other, eyes wide and confused. “What did—How am I alive?! What did you do?!”

Shiro sits up, pain from his back making him grimace a little. “I transferred my grace to you.”

“What? What does that mean? Am I…? But I’m not.” Keith frowns, feeling at his body with his hands.

“No… It seems you’re just human.”

“Human?”

“We both are.”

Keith goes still, eyes locking on Shiro. “You fell.”

A shrug that he instantly regrets. “Yeah.”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Pidge interrupts. “What the hell is going on?!”

“The curse laid on Keith’s soul was too powerful for regular healing. When angels are hurt that badly, it takes an awful lot of grace to wipe away the curse completely.” Shiro explains, shifting so he’s sitting cross-legged. “The grace cleansed him of Lucifer’s curse, but since he isn’t an angel—”

“Anymore?” Matt interjects, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, since he isn’t an angel _anymore_ —”

“Dude, you have to fill me in on this backstory someday.” Matt interrupts again.

“I don’t really remember all of it…”

“I’ll tell you later,” Keith says, still looking to be in a state of shock.

“Anyway, since he isn’t an angel anymore, I guess the grace cleansed him of what had twisted him into a demon and brought him… halfway? To being human? I don’t know any other way to explain it, it’s never been done before.”

“So, you sacrificed your grace on the vague _possibility_ that it could save him?!” Pidge exclaims, looking to be in the same state as Keith now that she is all filled in. “What if—What if it hadn’t worked? You could have--?! Shiro! What the hell!!!”

Shiro chuckles, looking back to Keith. “It was worth the risk.” He says, soft.

Keith sucks in a breath, not realizing he’d been tearing up. He launches himself into Shiro’s arms, sobbing as he kisses his face. “You’re so stupid,” he sobs, hands carefully wrapped around Shiro’s body.

The sun is starting to rise, a sliver of light on the horizon and it’s soft. It lights up the grey in Shiro’s once-blue eyes and the violet in Keith’s that used to be red. Everything is different and they both feel it, but one thing has remained the same. Dug up and revived from his wiped memories, stronger than ever.

“Keith?” Shiro says, voice gentle as the morning breeze. Violet meets grey and Shiro’s face blooms into a smile. “I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah! So, I suck at... wrapping things up, so the ending probably is cheesy/whatever.  
> Sorry if you never watched spn & don't get all the references I made (& if you did watch spn, you know I took a lot of liberties with the angel grace thing)! Thank you all soooo much for reading/liking/commenting! I love you all! LMK what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Title of the Fic is taken from Supernatural S5E22.  
> Enochian is the language of angels
> 
> Comment! Let me know if you liked it, if I made a mistake, etc! Thank you for reading!


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